


To The Tooth

by another_crack_in_time_and_space



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Eating Disorders, High school fluff, Mental Illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 08:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12744531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/another_crack_in_time_and_space/pseuds/another_crack_in_time_and_space
Summary: They never called it what it was. They never had to. At a certain point, after a certain number of years, you just know. And you watch, and wait, and brush your hand into theirs when they've been staring down at their plate for too long. It wasn't a group, or a club, or anything. They were friends. Friends don't let friends starve.





	To The Tooth

**Author's Note:**

> Not all eating disorders look like this, or are restrictive. So take that into account. Stiles would have AN, Lydia EDNOS, and Allison has Orthorexia. If you want to support the foundations that fight these, or learn more about them look up NAMED or NEDA, they have a lot of good resources.  
> I don't know what is triggering for people. I tried to keep it as vauge as possible, but this fic is upsetting. Its shameless self indulgence bc why deal w/ things like a normal person, anyway! Please be safe.

Lydia was first. She'd been in patient twice, but over the summer, and in secret. She never talked about it. She never wrote about it. She never saw the school counselor. She never got caught with her fingers in her mouth in the school bathroom like Marina did in sophmore year. 

Rookie mistake. 

But she had the longest amount of time to sit in it, eat breakfast with her shadow, and know she needed better. This was her recovery body, and she would tell that to anyone who asked. Not in that wording. Not so loud. But she wasn't ashamed of that part. Lydia Martin, vapid, deceitful, and masochistic, that she was ashamed of. 

Allison only wanted to go a little farther, fly a little higher, walk a little softer. It was an accident. She never got in it with purging, or binging. She just couldn't eat carbs, or oils, or dairy. And then it was only spinach and egg whites, and then it was only lemon water. Everything was poison. Everything would slow her down too much. She couldn't be forgiven for it. After losing her mother it was to disappear. Her father was so fucking sad all the time. She didn't need to be standing there, with her eyes and her mouth and hurt him like that. So she ran miles and miles and hoped for easier days. 

It was Issac, in a way, the one person she didn't need to be perfect for. She still clung on too tight to Scott, she was broken in a few places that couldn't heal, but Issac watched it all happen, and she had watched him crack too. They got that about each other. No pretense. If she didn't talk about it with him so much, that was okay. He got it. He had been forced to skip meals by his dad and that food insecurity came out, but he didn't get it. He would never call it a disorder, and she didn't care if he did. 

Stiles knew of the correlation between ADHD and EDs, but still had it in his head that his fragile masculinity would some how hide him from the demon over his shoulder. Fat chance. There were mania days, when he was too high to eat. He had to keep going going going. And then the lows, when his meds made him feel like his stomach was full of cotton. Then it was habit, like a game. How far could he go, how little could he have without anyone noticing. Everything was so boring, but the shaking in his hands, the clarity of fasting. It was amazing. 

It almost killed him. He didn't know about it, had never been tested, no keytones or blood work. But his blood went septic. He thought he had mono, ate more regularly, came back into his body. But he was still hooked on the game, or maybe it was hooked on him. Stiles never let go of it entirely. His dad gives him weird looks sometimes, and neither know how close he walked to death. 

So school lunch was an affair. The group changes with scheduels, and sometimes Stiles "lunch" is a slice of wheat bread hanging out of his mouth in the library, or Lydia just chews her fingernails, or Allison is out with Scott or Issac. But group meals, pack dinners, were weird. They all tried to dodge each other. Lydia clocked Stiles first, before he started eating better. She put a cold hand on his shoulder and slid his plate closer to him without a word. She wasn't going to hide what she knew. Not with this. Stiles noticed Allison's orthorexia when she was mid tangent about GMO's, noticed too much passion, too much anger, a little fear. He also saw her browser history when she visited NEDA sites at school. 

Rookie mistake.

So they get together sometimes. And they just vent, or laugh at it. Fold their arms, stare down relapses, pass around affirmations. No numbers, no weights, but no rules about not talking about what hurts. Because it sucks. hard. You have the one thing everyone can control turned against you. You feel like the weak link. Food is so safe, and normal and good. But you're the problem.

It wasn't actually true but they talk like this to turn the conversation around. It's a little fucked up, but they're a little fucked up. You don't tie yourself to the darkest magic in Beacon Hills without a few scars. 

It wasn't a club. It wasn't even a group. They didn't get matching jackets, or work through the 12 steps. But they were close in ways the others would never realize. They were friends. Friends don't let friends starve. 


End file.
